Chapter 11: Do You Know the Danger?

Much to my chagrin, Peeta and I are separated almost immediately after we board the plane. Doctors swarm him to save his injured leg, to save him. At least that's what they better be doing. If they try to kill him to ensure one Victor...

While I am forbidden from seeing Peeta for several days, I am allowed to see Cinna, Effie and finally, Haymitch.

But unlike my previous visitors, the drunk does not seem entirely pleased that I came back alive.

"You're in trouble, you know," he tells me, right out of the gates without so much as a 'Congratulations' or a 'Good Job.'

"What, because I didn't play their stupid game all the way to the end? Well, sorry to disappoint them, but I..."

"Katniss! This is serious. Not just for you. They don't take these things lightly."

I can see what he means. I showed them up. So did Peeta. The Capitol made us look like fools, so we made them look like fools right back.

Haymitch gives me instructions intensely, making it clear that this is literally a matter of life and death, though for whom he doesn't say.

"You have to tell Caesar at the interview that you were so in love with Peeta, you weren't responsible for your actions."

"But I am in love with him." If he had died...

"Then milk that for all it's worth, sweetheart. Milk it till the cow is empty."

The interview with Caesar kicks off with me finally - finally - seeing Peeta. He looks so young again, so handsome in his suit. I leap into his arms, feel his laughter against my body before I feel his lips on mine.

I wish we could communicate just as silently and just as effectively during public displays of affection as we do when in control of ourselves. Still, I pour everything I can't say into the kiss. Do you know? Do you know how much danger we're in? Somehow I bet Peeta does - he is sharp as a whip. And a ham of an actor too, for he milks it just as much as Haymitch told me to. He even pushes Caesar aside when the host tries to interrupt us. The audience nearly goes off its rocker.

At last, Caesar regains control of his studio and the interview begins. Whether deliberate or not, the questions seem tailored for me to answer about my love for Peeta, and I do so readily. Nothing Caesar throws my way seems to faze me, until he asks:

"So, Peeta: how are you getting on with your new leg?"

I shift in my boyfriend's embrace on the love seat, confused. "What does he mean? What...?"

Peeta lifts his pant seam to reveal what looks like a perfectly ordinary leg. "Go ahead, touch," he encourages with a bashful smile. "I don't mind."

I obey. But it's not warm skin I feel against my hand.

It's cool metal.

I let out a wail of anguish and bury my head in Peeta's shirtfront. They amputated his leg. I thought I had managed to save him, but I failed. I did not save all of him. Worse still, I have the strangest sense of foreboding that this is more than just a tragic concession. This is a warning shot.

Keep causing trouble and we'll take all of him away...

Meanwhile, Caesar is trying and failing to coax me out of Peeta's shirt. "Katniss, honey, calm down... I know you're upset... come on out of there..."

"No... No!" I whimper.

"It's all right, Caesar, she's just a little in shock, is all," Peeta covers for me beautifully. Even though it's true. I am in shock.

It only gets worse as we are made to watch a recap of our Games, every kill over an apparent 18 days condensed into a 3-hour marathon. By the time President Snow places the Victory Crowns on our heads, I just want to go home.

My wish is granted soon enough, as Peeta, myself and company are escorted to the train, now bound for District 12 and home.

The train ride back is of a decent length, which gives Peeta and me plenty of time to catch up. He reassures me that the Capitol doctors were not secretly monsters working to undermine his life; he even demonstrates how well he can walk on his new leg. The limp from the arena is gone.

We cuddle and kiss, eat dinner with Effie and Haymitch before going to my room and having sex. Then we cuddle and kiss some more.

But all the while, I have one thought - a memory, actually - tugging at my mind. A memory from our last night in the arena, facing down Cato as he delivered his final soliloquy.

"I'm dead anyway... I always was, right? I didn't know that till now... Not that it matters... Is that what they want?"

What did he mean by all of that? When I come to something of an answer, I confide it to Peeta.

"Darling, do you think Cato knew the deck was stacked against him? Or at least thought it? Due to what you said in your first interview?"

Peeta regards me quizzically, one eyebrow raised. "Whatever do you mean, my love?"

"I mean, think about it: you declaring your love for me would have scooped up sponsors, thereby cutting Cato - or any other tribute - off from their cash flow."

Peeta looks deep in thought. A bemused smile plays at his lips. "Huh. It's an interesting theory. If that is what happened, it was never my intention. I mean, I was hoping to gain sympathetic sponsors, but not at the expense of the other tributes. As far as Cato suspecting that near the end..." He shrugs, his eyes almost sad. "We may never know, sweetheart."

Peeta and I are mobbed as soon as our train pulls into the District 12 station. We leave the train holding hands, forgetting that our relationship was not always public.

Both our mothers soon remind us of this, though.

Between the two of them, and as expected, the Baker's wife takes it the worst. "Sleeping with a Seam slut behind my back, Peeta Joseph Mellark! I have never heard of anything so stupid in my life..." Her verbal rants which border almost on abuse leave me shellshocked, and I am amazed at Peeta's ability to basically tune her out.

"Don't take it personally; she's rude to everyone - even Dad," he whispers to me under his breath.

I smile. It's gone in the next second, however, as my Mother puts in her two cents. She eyes Peeta's and my joined fingers with a sharp frown, hands on her hips.

"Katniss Sierra Everdeen, is there something you want to tell me?"

I open my mouth to speak, but I am not allowed to get a word in edgewise, for Mother continues on.

"Your cousins and I got quite the shock when we saw you get... involved with this boy on TV. I had to have a long talk with your sister to get the proper story."

First, I see she has gestured towards the Hawthornes in reference to the word 'cousins' and it takes all my willpower not to act confused and just play along for the cameras. Remembering the rest of my mother's sentence, I glower at Prim, though my heart really isn't in it. It plays well for the Capitol audience, though.

"Peeta," my mother's attention turning to him. "At sixteen, Katniss is far too young to have a boyfriend..."

Peeta blushes red as a beet, while laughter and catcalls split the air.

"Oooooooohhhhh..."

"Somebody's in trouble..."

"BUT," Mother emphasizes to regain her stage. "As my eldest seems very... attached to you, keeping you apart probably won't do any good."

She doesn't voice the real reason, that the Capitol almost certainly won't allow her to keep us apart.

"Therefore, you both may see one another but under very specific ground rules. Peeta's mother will have input."

Well, that doesn't sound good. Peeta merely clears his throat.

"I will treat your daughter's mind, heart, soul and... body... with the upmost reverence, Mrs. Everdeen. On my honor."

For some reason, Haymitch thinks this is the perfect time to weigh in. "Don't say it like that, boy; it'll just make her hate you more..."

"You hush up!" my mother snaps, wagging a finger in the old drunk's face. Haymitch looks utterly speechless for the first time since I've known him, and the whole District gets a great laugh at his expense. Even Peeta and I, despite the new and more public home life that surely awaits us, have to giggle.